


The Best and the Worst of It

by goldenhawkk



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Case Fic, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 are Twins, Firefighter AU, Firefighter Markus, M/M, Markus is also very stupid, Oblivious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Pining Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenhawkk/pseuds/goldenhawkk
Summary: Connor Anderson hates being in debt. It's something his mother has written into his very DNA. He also hates fire fighters, specifically Markus Manfred. So, when Markus Manfred saved his life, what could be worse?Markus Manfred loves doing things for others. It's something that he's been taught ever since he was adopted by a rich man. He especially loves saving people, that's why he's a firefighter. So, when he's put on a case to find a serial arsonist with the police, what could be better?
Relationships: Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60/Simon, Hank Anderson & Connor, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Upgraded Connor | RK900/Josh
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	The Best and the Worst of It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Welcome to my (rewritten) firefighter Markus AU! Let's get some simple things out of the way  
> Sixty's name is Conrad  
> Nines' name is Conan  
> The official jobs of all the gangs are going to be at the bottom!

Connor hates a lot of things. 

Connor considers himself a realist, not a glass half full or a glass half empty, but it’s simply just a glass of water, sort of guy. And the realism of life is that you are going to hate things. Connor is also a very organized guy, so he likes to keep everything in lists, and that includes his hates.

For one, Connor hates firefighters. 

That was one of his most simple hatreds; it’s something drilled into all police officers’ heads in the academy, stemming from the decades old rivalry between the two departments. Connor, like everything else in his life, takes the rivalry a bit more seriously than other policemen. It’s just how he does things. The fact that his twin brother became a firefighter, making his feeling of rivalry even deeper. 

Connor also hates being in debt to people. 

Being in debt means being weak. That’s the only fact from his mother that still perseveres in his mind. One of the few things he actually remembers from his childhood was Amanda grabbing his face after he asked for a few dollars and saying, “Never be in debt to anyone, Connor. You’ll be weak, and then you will be killed.” Connor, his twin brother, Conrad, and his younger brother, Conan, were all banned from borrowing anything from anyone. Once Amanda was arrested for child abuse and the boys were adopted by Lieutenant Hank Anderson at age eight, Connor spent the rest of his childhood trying to repay Hank for taking them in and loving them unconditionally. His need to repay Hank boiled over when Connor was about to apply to the police academy, Hank had to sit his son down and explain to him he didn’t have to become an officer just to make Hank proud (and no, Connor definitely did _not_ cry). 

(He also never admitted to the fact he wanted to become a detective because Hank is Connor’s hero.)

The thing Connor hates most, though, is fire. 

It’s an understandable fear, considering he nearly burned alive in a fire a little under a year ago. It happened during a drug bust gone wrong, where someone from the outside was able to start burning the house as the police raided it. The house was so small that Connor didn’t notice what was happening until too late. Most of the officers were able to vacate, leaving Connor and Hank the last two in the house. A flaming support beam was falling, heading straight for Hank. Connor shoved his father out of the way, the heavy wood landing squarely on Connor’s back and pinning him to the ground. 

(Connor still can’t get the memory of screaming at his father to leave him to die out of his head.)

The catalyst of these three fears was Markus Manfred, Connor’s sworn enemy ever since the first Detroit Police vs Fire Department hockey game. He was the one who ran into the house and slung Connor over his shoulder. Once Connor was out of the house, Markus was also the one to give him mouth-to-mouth, forever marking Markus as a hero in the mind of three out of four Anderson boys (can you guess who wasn’t the one who fell in love with the fire fighter?). Connor just has to wonder why the hell it had to be the most obnoxious, egotistical, overly flirtatious, unfairly attractive firefighter that Connor was in debt to? It made him hate the guy even more. 

After the accident, Connor was forced to take leave for quite a few months while he attended physical therapy for his broken back and mental therapy for his new trauma. While attending, Conan moved in with him to help him out, also taking time off from his job of being an EMT to take care of Connor. After Connor was finally allowed back at work (not quite back on the field, but Connor was happy even with desk work at that point), Conan just stayed with Connor since the apartment technically had two apartments and it would be too hard to negotiate with Conan’s old asshole landlord.

(Neither of them would ever admit it, but Connor is still scared to use their gas stove by himself and Conan is still plagued with nightmares of his brother half dead in his ambulance.)

Now they live together, and whenever Conan was awake between his shifts, he cooked for Connor. Any other time, Connor grabs something to eat that doesn't need to get anywhere close to the stove or picks up Starbucks before heading into work. Today was one of the latter days, grabbing two black coffees, one for him and one for his father. He also had a pastry shoved in his pocket to eat once he arrives at the station. 

As he finally approached the station, he felt like the day was going to be a good day. The huge scar on his back wasn’t hurting like it usually did (eventually, he would realize he was wrong, but that’s a problem for a different paragraph). He walked into the station and nodded at the receptionist. As he approached his desk, he set one cup of coffee on Hank’s desk before going to his own desk across from him. 

“Good morning, Lieutenant!” Connor chirped.

Hank glared at him since he was currently taking a sip of coffee when Connor greeted him, like he always did. Hank suddenly started coughing up his drink. “The fuck is this?”

“A cinnamon latte. You told me to always get you whatever I get, and I decided to switch things up today.”

“How the fuck are you drinking something so sugary? Geez, kid, you’ve always been a healthnut, what’s up with this cinnamon shit!”

“Conan had some cinnamon sticks before he passed out and cinnamon sounded good.”

“Well, I changed my mind. I only want black coffee, _alright?_ ”

Connor sipped his latte before simply saying, “Okay, edgelord.”

“You little shi-”

“Andersons!” Fowler suddenly called, poking his head out from his glass office. Connor almost coughed up his own drink since Fowler hasn’t spoken to him much since he’s become a pencil pusher. Connor immediately looked over at his dad. 

“What did you do?” he whispered quickly. 

Hank’s eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t do shit!”

Connor stood up, sadly leaving his coffee to most likely go cold at his desk. He brushed off the nonexistent lint on his slacks before following his dad up the steps and into the glass office, nervously rubbing his hands together. 

Fowler was reclined on his chair, hands folded losely while his elbows were resting on the arms on the chair. The two Anderson boys sat across from the man. 

“I’m gonna cut right to the chase,” Fowler sighed, straightening up in his chair. “Connor, I’m putting you back on the field.”

Connor immediately perked up. “You are?” 

“Yes, as long as you agree to do this case first.”

“Yes, sir, whatever you need me on!”

“I’m putting you two on an arson case.”

Hank immediately spoke up, “The hell you’re not!” 

“Excuse me?”

“Lieutenant, if you are worried about my accident, it was over a year ago. I’ll be fine,” Connor insisted, leaning slightly towards his father. 

“You don’t have a choice, anyways. I’m this close to losing this damn case to the fire department!”

“Let them have it!” Hank said at the same time as Connor said, “No, sir, we’ll take it!” 

They glared at each other, having a quick but silent argument with their eyes. Eventually, Connor won the mental fight, sighing heavily. “Fine. We’re on the case.”

“Good. Because the two firefighters who you’re working with are coming.”

It was Connor’s turn to argue. “What? You said if we gave up this case, the fire department would take it! Well, we’re working the case!”

“If you gave it up, it would go _solely_ to the fire department! If you work it, you have to work with the fire department! It’s either that or another few weeks of pencil pushing, Anderson!” Fowler snapped, leaning forward. Connor let out a huff of air through his nose. 

“Fine. Can we at least know who’s joining us on the case?” Connor relented. 

“I was able to get Conrad Anderson on the case with you two, so I’m hoping that will help you out with the case,” Fowler stated. “The other person I had no control over.”

“Out with it, Jeffery.”

“Markus Manfred was insistent on working the case, and I know you two are constantly squabbling, but-”

“You expect me to work just as efficiently with him as I would with anyone else, I understand. It won’t be worse than working with Reed.” 

“So you two will work it?”

Hank looked over at Connor, raising an eyebrow. Connor rubbed his temple and mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll have the receptionist point the two to your desk.”

“Thank you, Captain Fowler.”

Connor left the office as quickly as he could without sprinting. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and flopped down in his desk chair. Hank sat at his own desk, leaning to get closer to his son.

“Ya sure you’re gonna be okay with this, Con?”

“I’ll have to be, Lieutenant,” Connor sighed, clicking on his keyboard to bring up the serial arson case. “I can’t let this go to the damn firefighters.”

“Your whole life can’t revolve around beating firefighters.”

Connor looked up from his monitor. “Wanna bet?”

Hank sighed, taking a sip of the coffee he left at his desk before spitting it out again. “How the fuck can you drink this?”

It took about ten more minutes before the two firefighters walked through the door. Connor’s brother was in an oversized DFD hoodie that Connor knew read _Anderson_ on the back. Markus, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a too tight t-shirt.

“Good morning, Captain Manfred. Looking unprofessional as ever,” Connor greeted, not even looking up from the notes he was taking.

“Good morning, detective,” Markus responded, sitting on his desk. Connor swatted at him. 

“Get off my desk. There’s a perfectly good chair right in front of you, or is all that smoke going to your brain?”

Markus put up his hands in surrender before sliding into the chair. Conrad scoffed. “The fuck am I? Chopped liver?” 

Connor smiled. “I’ll greet you first when you fix your mess of a hair, Sixty.”

“Oh, fuck you-”

“Alright, boys, that’s enough!” Hank snapped. “Jesus Christ, this case better not turn into me parenting your dumbasses the entire time, alright?”

Both twins mumbled a quick, “Yes, Dad,” but Connor didn’t miss how Conrad awkwardly ran a hand through his hair. 

“Alright. Now, Connor and I have just been given this case, so it’s probably for the best if we go over this together, alright?” Hank stood back up from his chair, popping his back. “I’m going to go get some real coffee, Connor will show you to the evidence rooms.”

Before Connor could dispute, Hank already walked off to the break room. Connor huffed out a breath, grabbing his coffee and taking a long sip.

“Follow me, please.”

Even though Connor wasn’t looking behind him, he could _feel_ Conrad right behind him, and he could almost feel Conrad’s smirk as he stepped on the back of Connor’s shoes. Connor wasn’t sorry when he threw his elbow back and it made contact with his brother’s ribs. He couldn’t help but smirk. As they descended the stairs, Markus piped up, “Are we going straight to the evidence?”

Connor couldn’t help but sigh. “No, this basement level is constructed with four rooms with everything a detective could use to solve a case, but towards the back has the actual evidence locker. We won’t need that, most likely, since arson cases usually burn all the evidence.”

They approached the door labeled _Andersons’ Case,_ Connor covered up the keypad as he typed in _7866._ He pushed open the door, moving out of the way for the other two to enter. Connor almost snorted when he saw Conrad still holding his side.

The room wasn’t heavily decorated, painted with light grey walls and dark grey carpeting, an evidence board hung on the wall opposite of the door. In the center of the room, there was a metal table with two metal chairs on each side, facing each other. In the corner by the evidence board was a filing cabinet, which Connor now approached.

Connor reached into the top drawer, pulling out a few files and set them on the metal table. He noticed how Conrad and Markus were sitting on the same side of the table, and Markus was looking around the room with a look in his eye Connor couldn’t quite recognize. He slid into the chair across from Markus and started sifting through the files. The fire captain leaned forward, elbows resting on the tables. 

“What’re you looking at there?” he asked. 

Connor looked up, glaring at Markus. “I’m looking through the collected evidence before I try to explain anything so I don’t give any false information.”

“Well, I was at the scene of three of the five fires. I could help you.”

Connor snapped the file closed. “I _know_ you can help. Why else would you be on the case? I also know Conrad was on the scene of all five of the fires. We shouldn’t actually start discussing things until the lieutenant returns.”

Markus shrugged. “Whatever you say, detective.”

After another minute or so of Connor looking through the case files and the other men sitting in silence, Hank walked into the room, carefully juggling two cups of coffee before setting one in front of Conrad. It was a smart move, in Connor’s mind, because he knew Conrad would throw a fit if he didn’t also get a cup of coffee, even to just be a prick. 

“Alright, got the case info?” Hank asked, leaning back, but cringing at how uncomfortable the chairs were. 

“I’m currently looking over it,” Connor replied, not looking up from the casefiles. He pulled out his notebook, flipping it open to his most recent notes. “I’ve got the basics. There’s been five fires, all on the same street, and the same side of the street. It’s a street mostly taken up by abandoned buildings, but one of the fires was an active small business that had just closed when the fire department showed up.”

Hank nodded, rubbing at his chin. “Alright. Do either of you know when the fire was actually started?”

Markus pulled out his own small notebook, flipping through a few pages, and Connor could see many of them were covered in doodles. He finally reached a page with, frankly, the messiest handwriting Connor has ever seen. 

“It was about 00:15. All of the fires seem to have been set in the time frame of midnight and oh-one-hundred,” Markus answered, looking up from the paper. “All have the same modus operandi, of somehow getting into the building and starting a fire by the back fire exit, on the first floor if applicable.”

Connor was surprised at the fact Markus actually learned some proper legal term. He ignored his surprise before standing and walking back over to the whiteboard, grabbing a dry erase marker in one hand and holding the map of where the fires have been. He drew a quick [diagram](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Mcolct6DKOBSyIvc--0hWHiQp_mvidfp/view), placing Xs on the buildings burned. He took a step back, chewing on the end of the marker (he’s got to stop doing that). 

“What the fuck is up with the pattern of the fires?” Conrad asked. 

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Connor replied. 

It was strange- five fires on one street, all closely bundled together. There was a building not burned between the first and second fires, the second and third fires, and the fourth and fifth fires. The odd thing was the third and fourth fires were right next to each other, and the last three fires were all set on the same night. 

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Usually, with serial arsonists, they spread the fires around so as to not bring suspicion.”

“So the arsonist must be doing it for a reason?” Markus asked.

“Exactly. That has to be the only reasonable explanation, right? Now we have to find out why.”

“Did you guys find anything in the rubble?”

“No, nothing that could start a fire at least, but you guys said each fire smelled like gasoline, right?

“Yeah, that’s right. We’re pretty sure the perp covered most of the floor with gas before setting it ablaze and booking it.”

Conrad grabbed the files and slid them toward himself. “Well, your beat cops haven’t found shit, so the only good idea is to actually _go investigate,_ right?”

Hank and Connor exchanged looks before Connor sighed. “Alright. I guess you’re right. Let’s go.”


End file.
